


Good Night

by crimsonadvent



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bittersweet, Character Death, Exorcists don't exist in this timeline, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Nobility, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:08:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24114769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crimsonadvent/pseuds/crimsonadvent
Summary: Noahs have the chance to be reborn. It's in this lifetime that Tyki gives himself that chance to fall in love. But at what cost?
Relationships: Lavi/Tyki Mikk
Comments: 9
Kudos: 29





	Good Night

**Author's Note:**

> He woke up to a world where exorcists never existed.

Lavi was a prodigy, both in music and in science. He was a famous individual, and rightly so.

At a young age of eighteen, he’d accomplished various feats and invention coining his mentor, and father, the older Bookman, as his guide.

Thus, it’s not surprising to find the redhead in the elaborate parties of the nobles, flocked by young ostensibly dressed young women. He’s quite the charmer, as many have heard but he never took a single one to dance. He keeps to himself despite the overflowing compliments that spills off his lips. And no matter how handsome he was, the stark black patch covering his eye was another deterrent to some noble families.

Despite how prodigious he was, some considered him as damaged goods.

But Tyki could argue with that.

\--

He’s nursing his fifth glass of champagne; it was obvious to Sheril Kamelot he was agitated. The Minister busies himself with small talk with the governor, another faceless person that he could care to be trifled with. The Noah clan were a more prestigious family, not even this little town could hold a candle to their influence.

“Tyki.” He calls, answered only by incoherent mumbling. The younger Noah calls for a waiter, taking another flute of the golden liquid as he deposits his empty glass. A sixth drink for the night, he _must_ certainly be agitated.

“Tyki.” Again, ignored. Had Sheril never been keen on appearances, he might have dealt with his brother’s sullen mood. But he had to be amicable, ever the attentive and patient Minister that he was.

It was upon Tyki’s tenth glass is he freed from the pompous act of talking to the governor and marching to his slightly inebriated sibling. “Tyki.” His voice was much more stern, finally catching the younger Portuguese’s eyes. “Ahh, Sheril, finally joining me? Had enough fluffing yourself for the masses?” There was a slight slur to his voice which Sheril disliked.

“You’re making a fool of yourself.”

“Was I not always a fool?” Tyki laughs to himself, downing the remnants of his drink before calling over the waiter. Sheril plucks the empty flute, depositing it on the tray and shooing the man away. The sour look from the Noah of Pleasure hardly intimidated him.

“Come on, let us be off.”

“No, I can go home later.”

“Tyki.”

“Sheril.” He sounded soberer than he did before. The younger Noah stands, facing off Sheril in a heated gaze, “let me off for now.”

Numerous thoughts circulate in the Minister’s mind, Tyki was never subservient. He had his own set of time for himself but he worried, it has been some time since his wounds were starting to heal. Caging him would do no good, and letting him out of his sight would be far worse.

He massages his hand to his temples, a growing headache already prickling his senses. He should have asked for a champagne, “All right, I will be off. You know how Tricia is. Take care of yourself, dear brother.”

“I always do.” Tyki chuckles, waving farewell.

Sheril doesn’t trust him a lot, leaving an akuma to keep watch as he finally steps into the carriage, eager to be home and rest.

\--

The ballroom starts to thin but he’s still sitting in the same loveseat as earlier. All the women have gone home, as is proper for them; leaving the men to engage in small talk and pomp. He hated these kinds of activities; he didn’t take to kindly to small talk, pushing himself to stand as he straightens his tail coat. “I will be off then.” He tips his top hat, earning a few slurred replies from the intoxicated men.

His long legs take him across the ballroom in mere minutes, his gloved hands grasping on the brass doorknob. The cool evening wind is refreshing on his feverish skin, finally stepping into the deathly silent hallways. Adorned with various painting of the manor’s residents, he ignores all of them.

The sooner he gets out; the sooner he could be home.

He doesn’t really wish to be home, only away from here. Anywhere was good enough, if only he could-

“Ah.”

The word slips out from the man in front of him, cheek flushed as a lone green eye studies him. His golden eyes focus on the rouge left upon the side of his lips. He doesn’t understand why his blood boils, the color clashing on the prodigy’s pale skin. The redhead hastily wipes the mark with he back of his hand, tucking it quickly to his side.

“Lord Mikk.” He lets a boyish smile on his lips.

“Please, Tyki is fine. Aren’t we done with this, Lavi?” There’s a sternness to his voice causing the redhead to swallow audibly. His lone eye shifts side to side, prompting Tyki to look around. There wasn’t anyone else aside from them.

“Relax.”

“Why are you still here?” The prodigy asks, loosening the cravat around his neck. Tyki doesn’t miss the action, his honeyed eyes darkening at the implications. “I could ask you the same. Why are _you_ still here?”

“Would you believe me if I told you my chauffeur is drunk and cannot bring me home?” He wasn’t normally this vocal; the prodigy they keep parading always had his walls up – even with him. Tyki humors him a chuckle, “Well then, come home with me.”

He flushes darker, surprise written over the younger man’s face, “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Oh but I insist.” He grasps Lavi by his forearm, all but dragging the man out with him. He doesn’t struggle under his hold, following after him as they made their way out of the manor. The sound of their footsteps upon the cobbled stone filling the air. A long carriage waits for them by the entryway, Tyki whistling at the akuma’s attention.

Lavi doesn’t know that.

“Heading home, Lord Mikk?”

“Yes, yes. We will need to bring Bookman to his place before home.” He mutters crassly as the akuma opens the door for both of them. Lavi watches in confusion, shifting his gaze from the open doorway of the carriage to Tyki. The taller man shrugs his shoulders before bowing, “After you.”

“W-what?”

“You’re my guest, you go on in first.” He grins, a malicious gleam on his eyes. Lavi blushes at his expression but nonetheless heads the insufferable man’s words. Mikk had a good view of his ass; that wasn’t his goal now, was it?

He lets out a sharp sigh, what was he thinking; clambering to the seat beside Lavi as the door closes behind him. He brings a gloved hand up to his temples, mimicking the exasperated expression his brother had worn moments ago. “You look far too troubled, Tyki.”

The way his name rolls off his lips is delightful to the Noah’s ears and he hums. He settles his hand back upon his lap, turning to his companion as the carriage shifts. “If you have a brother who’s constantly throwing women at your way and asking you to get married, you would be tired as well.”

Genuine laughter spills out of Lavi’s lips, his shoulders shaking with each one. There were no walls to keep this kind of emotion off the prodigy’s face and Tyki feels warm, how unguarded could this man be around him. “I envy you. My father has been keen on telling me to stick to my books.”

“What of the continuity of your clan?”

“He says I should not be bothered by it when the time comes. He mentioned settling down by the time I’ve turned 30 summers.”

It was Tyki’s turn to belt out a laugh, his body shakes with mirth; the emotion feels so foreign on him. How long has it been since he genuinely laughs with someone that was not his family? A long time. “Thirty? Your father is mad. Surely there’d be so little time on your hands when you reach that age.”

“Don’t you think so as well? God, my father can be such a stickler.” Lavi runs his hands through his red hair, undoing the pomade that kept it in place. Tyki commits the action to memory, swallowing thickly as the prodigy undoes the small tie that kept his hair in place.

“Oh we’re almost there.” The younger male peers out of the carriage windows, a forlorn look on his face as they slowed down in front of an ornate mansion. There’s a second floor room that was still lighted, perhaps his father.

Tyki couldn’t help the disappointment bubble inside him, as the prodigy quickly straightens himself. “Well, then thank you for the ride for home, Lord Mikk.” He pushes himself up, grasping the door handle. Tyki lets out a soft tsk, grasping Lavi’s forearm.

He pulls the redhead down, pressing his lips against surprised ones.

The Noah pulls back as quickly as he’d swooped in, releasing his grip at the younger man’s arm. Gold eyes appraised the flush on Lavi’s cheeks to the way the prodigy’s mouth opened and close.

“How many times have I told you? Tyki.” He leans back against the seat, crossing his arms as he delighted in the speechless state of his companion. Lavi breaks from the trance, bringing a hand up to his face as he drags his hand down his face. “Seriously.”

The door opens for him and Lavi quickly steps down. He turns around, shooting a sour look at Tyki who waves at him from his seat, “Good night.”

The redhead never responds as he opens the iron gate and trudges inside, leaving the akuma to close the door and make their way home. The Noah of pleasure slides down on his seat, covering his flushed face with a gloved hand, wondering what had come over him.

It continues in similar fashion, no matter where they met.

Tyki always made an effort to capture Lavi’s time no matter where they were. Lavi’s growing fame was a factor to more parties the redhead had to attend, more pomp to showcase himself. That did little to ease the women that were thrown their way; for Tyki, a chance to marry into a higher nobility, for Lavi, a chance to be wed to a flowering business.

They were the esteemed bachelors; men just ripe for the picking but Tyki had little care for the ladies dressed in frilly skirts and layers of makeup. His eyes set upon the man, a year older now, that sat upon a piano bench as the host asked him a piece to play on a well-polished grand piano.

Much of the commotion in the room had ceased as nimble fingers danced along ebony and ivory keys. He watched each digit strike, each chord that hung in the air. There was no name to this song, as the people gasp in delight at the melody.

All the Noah could think of, was how melancholic it sounded. He drinks the champagne in his hand, thankful that Sheril was not around this time. He downs just five glasses this evening, not that alcohol could get him to slacken off. His ability to choose was quite convenient, no, rather he’d spare himself the harrowing glances of the matchmakers who are ever so eager to have their daughter paired with him.

It’s always when he’s left alone, home-bound, that he swoops in. This time, he gathers Lavi into his arms in an empty hallway. This time, he doesn’t hold back. Having tasted him once was not enough.

He devours the prodigy’s lips, the noises that spill out, the grip on his tailcoat is tight, hard. There’s a fury in the lone green gaze, shifting back and forth with him and the hallway. He eases his lips off, pushing them into one of the empty rooms, continuing the fight of tongues and lips.

His gloved hands map out the lean body in front of him, the soft gasps he drinks in. Pushing Lavi against the wall was an easy feat, pliant and drunk with kisses as he was.

“Tyki.” His name is hoarse off the redhead’s lips but the indignant look on his face could only summon a chuckle from the tall noble. He humors him, stepping away but caging the redhead with his arms. There’s a delicate redness on his pale cheeks as he grips the lapels of his coat. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Am I now? I think I’m perfectly sober.” He chuckles.

“You’re not thinking straight right now.” The hands on his lapels tighten their grip, pulling him nearer as gold meets emerald. There’s a storm behind the verdant gaze and Tyki feels a little guilty, a little. “You’re making things difficult.”

Tyki brings his lips, to his forehead, pressing a tender kiss, “I never liked it easy, or simple. It seems this is enough for the evening. Come, I’ll bring you home.” Lavi lets out a tired sigh but relaxes once the noble pushes himself off of him.

His words were a farce as there were more kisses exchanged in the carriage before he returns home.

Sheril stands up, a stern look on his face. He feels the chill in the air as soon as he steps inside the manor, it’s quite late. The Minister should have long retired for the night.

“Tyki, you’re out late once again. How many times does this make?”

“I don’t really know. Nor care, but I’m really tired.” He proceeds to step away from his brother, eager to ease himself into the plush bed.

“This is the fifth time you’ve gone home late in this month. It has been months since this trend has occurred.” Sheril fixes the glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose, a malicious glint in his eyes, “Did you not think I have an idea on what’s happening?”

Tyki lets the shiver run down his spine before turning around to face his brother, “Sheril, please drop it.”

“I’m merely thinking about your disposition brother. You know how it is being a member of this family.”

“I hate all this pompous show.”

“You were born into this and like it or not, you have to live by the standards.” The Minister chides. It was the bitter truth, Tyki would have to settle down with some painted face woman if he had any chance of continuing the memory to his descendants. His mouth turns into a tight line, before letting out a tired sigh. “I understand.”

“Best you do, unless you want repercussions for your decisions. Well then, rest up brother. Good night.”

Sheril makes his way to his shared bedroom with his wife, leaving the younger in the receiving area. Tyki rakes his fingers through his hair, mussing his tresses. He called one of the akumas; a warm bath should be enough to ease the tension for now.

Two months pass by so easily before he knew it. He followed his brother’s words, played the good noble as he danced with ladies of the court. He’d even sat down with some of them, listening to their boring tirades day in and day out. He’d been sorely missing a particular individual who hardly showed up in the parties he’d been invited to. That had most likely been Sheril’s doing, his brother was a stickler for the rules.

Noah or not, most of the family members followed Sheril most of the time.

This particular ball was organized by one of the Minister’s friends, the old coot’s granddaughter was turning sixteen and they felt like organizing a ball would sum up how wonderful that feeling was. A feeling the Noah of Pleasure hardly cared about. He’d been dolled up at Rhode’s vehemence and Sheril had personally asked him to attend, for the family’s sake.

Left alone, Tyki wants nothing more than to head home and probably try out one of Rhode’s assignments or even tease the twins. He’s made his way to his table, sans of any other guests, which he is thankful for.

He hardly had any patience for anyone for this evening.

An array of delicious food is spread in front of him but Tyki hardly had an appetite these days, his mind reeling back to a single name. He plays with the food on his platter, plucking here and there; chewing morsels of what he fancies and pushing aside what he does not. He busies himself with platters of food, his mind a blank as his eyes search for a familiar face.

The clock ticks by, hardly noticed by the Noah. It’s only when he lifts his head once more to see the guest had diminished. The grand clock face displayed minutes after eight.

The night was still too young for him to go home, too late to bother his family even. Thus, Tyki Mikk sits in his seat, swirling a flute of champagne in his hand. He had no desire to dance with anyone this evening, no matter how many gazes had strayed to his person.

The chair beside him scrapes as its dragged away from its place summoning a frown from him, “Sorry, but I think you might be in the wrong ta- “

The words die on his lips as his golden gaze focuses on the begrudging look plastered on the face of Lavi Bookman. He’s dressed in much fancier clothing, his profession preceding him. Lavi takes the neglected flute in his hand, downing the liquid in one tip of his head before settling the empty glass on the table. Tyki’s eyebrows knit together, “That was mine.”

But Lavi ignored him. A thin line on his face as he turned his green eye to him, “Do you think it’s funny, Mikk?”

There’s a lethal edge in his voice and Tyki ceases any humor for now.

“Going all that effort to do such things with me and dropping me off like a sack of potatoes? Who thought that ugly mug of yours could compensate for the absence.”

Tyki lets a soft chuckle off his lips, “Aw, I missed you too. And it looks like you’ve added a new word into your vocabulary too, I should thank your friend.”

He notices the blush spread to Lavi’s ears; cute. “To answer your sentiments, my brother has been setting up a strict list of parties for me to attend. And try as I may, I would never not want to see you.”

“You’re using quite big words; I’m beginning to think you’ve actually picked up a book in the time we haven’t seen each other.” Lavi calls for a waiter, replacing the empty glass with two. Tyki arches a dark brow but receives the offered drink to which they toast.

“I stole your glass. Think of it as an apology.” Lavi murmurs behind the glass.

“Hah. You’ve stolen more than a glass of champagne from me.” He says profoundly, choking on his drink at the implication of his words. His golden eyes shift to the younger man, hoping he didn’t catch on. But there’s no semblance of recognition on the redhead’s face, for now. Tyki lets out a sigh, wishing that he wasn’t so transparent, so predictable. He wishes the prodigy was at the least bit flawed in the aspects of emotions, he so dearly wishes.

The night wears on, and he savors the moment he could take with him. The banters come easy, the stories shared of their time apart. There’s little distance between them, in the sanctuary of the private garden, the guests have long since left. The silver light of the moon leaves shadows in their wake, each muted footstep leading them deeper into the labyrinth of the manor.

“I designed this labyrinth.” Lavi confesses, his voice is so loud against the silence of the night.

“Oh?”

“It took a month to get it sorted out.”

“And that would mean?”

The redhead lets out a noise of frustration, stalking back to Tyki and pushing the taller man against the hedge, “That would mean I know the exits, the turns and the corners.” Tyki’s eyes darken and he drapes his larger hands on the lithe form in front of him. The shudder under his palms feels wonderful, sinful.

“Oh. So you’ve drawn me into an elaborate trap. How smart of you.”

“Shut up and kiss me.” Lavi pulls on his lapels but it’s Tyki who draws him in. Long arms pulling the prodigy flush against his frame, “Did you miss my lips that much? Don’t worry. I always aim to please.”

He presses his lips against Lavi’s, it feels like home. The taste fills his mind, cinnamon with whisky. It’s an odd flavor, spicy and deep. Much like the man in front of him, having to peel layers upon layers of a persona the redhead has built to mask himself. He feels like he’s won.

He turns around, pressing Lavi against the hedge as he angles his head, deepening each kiss. A courageous tongue swipes along the redhead’s lower lip, asking for entry.

And entry he does so have.

A soft gasp escapes Lavi’s lips, as his tongue darting right through the tight opening. His exploration meets a fierce foe, but he relishes it; each swipe of his tongue, every nuance of flavor that he could gather and commit to memory.

He wanted to drink all that was Lavi Bookman. His hands find purchase on him, if this continues, he might-

The harsh noise from Lavi’s pocket breaks them apart and Tyki doesn’t stamp down the noise of displeasure that spills out of his lips. The redhead laughs at his look, taking out an ornate pocket watch and pressing a button upon it.

“It’s designed to let me know how much time I have spent at a party.”

“You’ve actually crafted one that lets you know you’ve stayed long?” he asks, incredulous. Lavi’s cheeks mimic the color of his hair as he ducks his head, “Yes.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Well, if you were in a party that only had strangers wanting to shake your hands, would you have wanted to stay.”

“Touché.” Tyki unravels his arms from around him; it’s so much colder. “Well, since the time is up. I believe we should part.”

“Wait.” It’s an odd feeling, as Lavi’s smaller, smoother hand wraps around his wrist. He looks up at the Noah, a determined gleam in his eye, “I can stay for a little longer.”

“Oh breaking rules now?”

“Only because you’re here.” He pulls him back, and this time Tyki is delighted to savor his lips more.

In the passing days, he’d be more than happy to steal kisses off his lips.

Wayward touches in the ballroom when they pass each other.

The glint in his eyes whenever women flock to him or to Lavi, the annoyance radiating off his person.

It became a gamble; evading everyone’s prying eyes with each act he could do. It was all too easy, they made it too easy. He was far too cunning; Lavi was far too smart. He felt so powerful, finally, he could control his fate.

He was his own person, Noah or not. For that moment, Tyki held the greatest pleasure he could have ever wanted.

“We’ve planned it; you will be wed in a month’s time.” Sheril says with finality, a smile on his face. Tyki sits frozen, gaze focused on the papers settled upon the polished table. His name written beside a woman’s, someone he doesn’t care to know.

He doesn’t even notice when Sheril left, doesn’t notice the worried glances from the two Kamelot children as they exit the room. He breathes sharply through his nose as the grip on his knees doesn’t ease. He’d been too reckless, too carefree and now Sheril has chained him down. He should be thankful; he should be appreciating as Sheril had cut him some slack after all.

But this would mean an end to his wandering, to the times he could drop the pretense of being a noble. He takes the tankard of whiskey that’s so conveniently placed on the table, striding out well into the night. He’s downed the liquor by the time he’s by the gates, throwing the empty class on the cobblestones.

The harsh sound of broken glass and fragments are all but forgotten as he slips through the iron-wrought gates. Surely his brother would notice, though he hardly cared about it.

The cool air soothes his fevered skin, he walks and walks; anywhere, nowhere, he doesn’t truly care. Anywhere was better than here.

He doesn’t have a place to name but it’s the empty plaza that he settles his self into. There’s no one around, save for the cold whispers of the wind. The light from the streetlamps casts the shadows upon his feet. The alcohol hardly washing the bitter flavor off his lips.

He should be thankful, really he was, but it spelled so much more.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He doesn’t know if he’s cursed or blessed as he raises his eyes to look at startled green. “You look like a wretch, what happened?”

Tyki lets out a bitter laugh, moving aside so Lavi could take a seat, “You would not believe it.”

“Oh, then humor me.”

“I am to be wed in a month.”

“Congratulations.”

Quick, precise. He should have known he would deal the news with logic. Frankly, there was no loss to both of them. There was nothing to gain in this pretense of a relationship, nipping it at the bud would work well. But that bud had blossomed, a dark black rose whose thorns have carefully embedded themselves into both of them. They were joined in a secret dance from the beginning.

He buries his face into his hands, the alcohol hardly easing his worries. He more startled now that Lavi has ceased his quip, he needed some sort of reprieve. He pushes himself back to lean against the wooden seat, his golden gaze settling on the redhead. He was far too silent to be normal, his hands wringing on his lap.

He shouldn’t be saying this but, “Want to elope?”

The laugh that bubbles out of Lavi eases his worries, and he considers the words but he knows the man in front of him was too proud, too rigid with his ideals. It would have to move mountains for him to abandon his work.

But he wins a good laugh.

“You’re clearly out of your mind, Tyki. You should be celebrating.”

“That’s the least appealing thought right now.”

“You’re being a fool, Tyki Mikk.” Lavi looks up at the full moon.

“When was I not a fool?” He chuckles dryly, pushing himself to stand. There’s a slight sway in his steps that makes Lavi rush up to his feet and steady him. Worry is written so plainly on the green eye as his hands steady Tyki on his swaying legs. “This is the first time I’ve seen you even remotely intoxicated. You can’t go home like this.”

“Home is the farthest place I’d rather be right now.”

“I doubt my father would take too kindly to having you around as well.” His brows knit together, arms helping him up. “Well then, I know a place.”

He doesn’t ask, letting the prodigy guide him. Weaving along the alleyways, through seedy pubs and whatnots. Tyki should be worried but he could hardly care, he was living in the moment. Relishing what little he could of the man, he’d learned to care for.

“Anita, good evening.” Lavi greets the Asian woman who was lighting a cigarette as she leans against the doorway.

“Lavi.” Her eyes light up at his presence then shifts to the Noah. “And your friend. Good evening. It’s unusual for you to bring a companion.”

“It’s a little complicated.” He chuckles lightly, “Could we have a room for the night?”

“You always have a room here, there’s no need to ask. Shall I ask one for your friend as well?”

“No, we will be sharing one.”

“Oh, well then. You know your room, let Mahoja know if you need anything.”

“Thank you.”

He’s silent during the entire exchange, wondering just how friendly Anita was of Lavi or how he had a regular room in a brothel. More questions brew in his mind but he doesn’t voice them out, merely letting the smaller man guide him through the ornate interior of the establishment. It was silent, an odd thing for a place such as this.

“Anita only accepts certain people; we can safely rest here.” He pushes open a well-decorated crimson door. Engravings of ivy line around the edges, leading into a simple bedroom. There was a writing desk that had its share of papers stacked together at one corner. In another end, there’s a mixture of items that boggle the noble’s mind.

He doesn’t get the chance to stare for long as Lavi guides him to the bed, draping him upon the soft silk covers before the prodigy makes his way to the bathroom. The noble rolls to his back, his tired eyes focused on the ornate drapes of the four poster bed. He didn’t think Lavi was the type to indulge in such a furniture.

The sound of running water falls upon his ears and Tyki slowly peels himself form the rumpled sheets, trudging towards the open bathroom door. A disappointed look sits on his face when he finds Lavi still dressed. His coat and vest were draped upon the sink leaving the younger man in a white dress shirt and dark pants, it hardly gave the prodigy any justice. He brings his eyes back up, whistling.

“What are you doing?” He leans against the doorframe, his forearm propping his weight as he stares at the deft fingers that are twisting the knob of the faucet close. A deadpan look settles on Lavi’s face as he turns around, “Starting you a bath, go on, you reek. I won’t have someone who reeks on my bed.”

“Oh ho, so that’s how you like it huh.” He saunters towards the redhead, relishing the way his cheeks reddened at his words.

He grasps his chin, tilting Lavi’s face so he could have a better view of his blush. It spreads down beneath the crisp white collar of his button down. The prodigy swats his hand away, stepping back to put some space between them, “Stop that Tyki.”

“Oh.”

“You know what you were doing.”

“I was merely curious. Besides, you look lovely when you blush.” A Cheshire grin paints itself on Tyki’s lips earning a choked noise from Lavi. The redhead lets out an exasperated sigh, carding his fingers through his hair.

“Come on, wash up will you.” He moves away from him, eager to create some space but Tyki’s golden eyes follow him and his hand darts out to cage a dainty wrist, abruptly stopping Lavi in his tracks. He raises a brow as Tyki maneuvers him into his arms, wrapping the smaller male with his long limbs, “I haven’t thanked you yet.”

“For what?”

“For bringing me here. For the refuge.”

Lavi lets out a laugh, his hands settling upon his forearms, “You want to thank me because you look like you needed an escape? That sounds ludicrous Tyki, come now and get a bath.” His arms didn’t ease their hold on him, instead he wraps him much tighter as he leans down. “I believe this would compensate. For now,.”

He doesn’t wait for a response, claiming Lavi’s lips in a kiss. Unlike the previous ones, this one was hardly hurried, more sensual, more emotional. It’s as if Tyki is pouring his heart into it, a simple kiss. He runs his fingers along Lavi’s sides, trailing his blunt nails along the soft fabric. He relishes the shudder as he deeps the kiss, tilting his head as he swipes for entry.

Lavi concedes so easily, his hands coming to rest on Tyki’s wide shoulders, grasping the fabric of his coat as he lets the noble devour his lips. He leans back slightly as Tyki pushes forward, his hand catching the hem of the prodigy’s dress shirt. Tugging it loose from his pants, his large hand maps out the warm skin beneath, a gasp torn from Lavi’s lips.

Tyki lets out a soft chuckle, “I didn’t expect you to be this sensitive.” He slides his hands away from the prodigy, he shouldn’t be acting on his emotions. It would be unfair. But Lavi had other thoughts, his hands grasp Tyki’s coat, pulling him close, “You don’t get to stop.”

His lips mashed against his own, it’s sloppy, inexperienced and Tyki couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbles off him as he kisses back. His hands find their spot upon Lavi’s narrow hips, pulling him flush against his body.

His hands tug on the buttons of Lavi’s clothes, popping each one. He drinks in the groan of frustration from the redhead as he continues his upward path, his large hand pressed against the warm chest of the man in front of him. He feels so smooth, so untainted, like a fresh palette to paint on. Tyki groans with the flow of his thoughts.

He pulls away, unhindered as his amber gaze drinks in the redhead’s taut body. Lean, contrary to his sedentary lifestyle; he pushes the abused clothing off the prodigy’s shoulders. He’s impatient, his tanned hands quickly grasping the belt that kept the redhead’s pants up but Lavi’s gentle hands press on his own. “Not so fast, it’s only fair for you to shed off your clothes as well. You’re far too dressed for what we know should happen tonight.”

“You’re right. How foolish of me.” He makes it a point to sensually drag his hands along his clothing, never breaking his gaze upon the man in front of him. Tyki shrugs off his coat, his vest following after. Slowly his fingers undo each button, so gentle as opposed to his manhandling of Lavi’s clothing.

He knows the gaze that settles on his scars, the stark contrast of the scar tissues on his pallor would pique anyone’s interests. He hoped that Lavi would save the questions for another time.

Thankfully he does.

He never bore himself to anyone in this life, thus the embarrassment doesn’t abate as Lavi’s green eye study his bare abdomen. Pale hands press on his tanned skin, spreading his fingers as he leans onto him. His lips press along Tyki’s collarbone, open mouthed kisses that leave his skin warm.

He knows he can see them, the scars that decorate his skin as a grim reminder of his past life. He’s nervous, hands holding on to the redhead as the prodigy peppers his skin with kisses.

“Lavi.” The redhead pauses and he looks up. “You don’t have to- “

“I want to. Now shut up and let me, you’ve put me up to this.” He makes no room for any further arguments, pulling his down for another kiss. Tyki is more than happy to accede his request, his large hands trail up the redhead’s back, blunt nails raking along smooth flesh. Lavi mimics his actions, soft palm along the rough contours of his scars.

His breath hitches against Lavi’s lips; some were still too tender. “Sorry.” The words are whispered on his skin, but Tyki shakes his head. “It’s all right.” He brings his hands to the belt around Lavi’s hips, easily undoing it, unhooking the clasp that kept his bottoms intact. One small flick and Lavi’s left in his undergarments.

Not to be left behind, Lavi continues his onslaught of peppering Lavi’s skin with kisses. As if etching his lips to every dark contour of the noble’s body, his pale hands drag up and down the muscular back, snatching at the sides of the scars but this time there was no pain. He drags them to Tyki’s hips, snagging along the thick leather strap before undoing the clasp. It’s quick work, the buttons undone, giving way to more of Tyki’s muscular frame. His slacks fall to a heap to his ankles, he slips his legs out of them, promptly kicking the clothing away. A lone green eye drinks in his frame, Tyki couldn’t be prouder than before.

“Who knew a count could be this well-built.” Lavi chuckles, raising his eye to look at golden ones. “You should be grateful; I’ve never showcased my body for anyone before you.” He relishes the blush that darkens on Lavi’s skin. “Truly?”

“You make it sound like I’m easy to sleep with.” He presses a chaste kiss to Lavi’s lips.

“You seem like the type.”

“Hey now, that wasn’t very nice, Bookman.”

“Kiss me then.” Lavi jokes but Tyki is quicker. His lips claim the gasp from the redhead as he trails his hand downwards, cupping the stiffening cock beneath the younger man’s undergarments. Lavi gasps loudly as he turns away from his lips, his lithe body arching under his touch. Tyki trails his mouth downward, pressing kisses along Lavi’s neck. He lets his teeth graze along the sensitive flesh above his vein, biting lightly at it.

Lavi jumps, his mind reeling as he savors the sensations that Tyki was giving him. The bites along his shoulder to the palm that’s nestled against his groin. He moans lowly, the sound taking Tyki by surprise. A Cheshire grin makes its way back to the nobles face, “You like that huh?”

He grasps Lavi’s stiffening cock, running his hand up and down the length as he bites the prodigy’s shoulder. A louder moan escapes the redhead and he grasps on Tyki’s shoulders for support. Emboldened by the noises that are spilling out of him, Tyki drags his lips lower, taking a pert nipple between his teeth as he nibbles on it lightly.

“Angh! Tyki.” Lavi cries out, his legs clamping around the hand that was massaging him through the fabric of his undergarments. He was getting harder under his touch, as Tyki shifts to the other nipple. His mouth laves the pert bud with attention as his fingers slowly guides the last clothing off Lavi’s body.

He lets it fall down to the Bookman’s feet, helping him out of it. The steady spread of the blush on Lavi’s skin is endearing but his golden eyes drink in another sight. Lavi’s cock is beautiful; a nice upward tilt with enough girth that he could hold within his hand. Tyki steps forward, wrapping a hand around the stiffening shaft.

A choked sound escapes the younger male and his body seizes under his touch. “Shh, it’s all right. You’ll be fine.” Slowly, languidly he brings his hand along Lavi’s length, enjoying each muffled sound that spills from the prodigy’s lips. Lavi’s hands grasp his hips in a bruising grip, “You know, you could use your hands for something else.” He nudges his hips, bringing that glazed eye down to his remaining undergarments.

Lavi’s hands trail down his back softly, gentle along the scars. Pale fingers toy with the waistband of his undergarments. As if vengeance to his earlier coyness, Lavi trails a blunt nail along his hips, along the waistband. Tyki stutters in his actions, letting out a low growl at Lavi’s exploration. “Lavi.” He warns, his voice lower than usual.

“Oh, so this can rile you up too, Tyki?” There’s mirth in his voice, shifting into a moan as Tyki squeezes his cock. He drags his fist up, toying with the underside of his cock, earning a soft moan. “Keep playing and I might just toy with you longer, Bookman.”

He squeezes his cock once more and Lavi groans out loud, the sound reverberating with the walls. Tyki wants to hear more, wants to commit to memory every expression and sound that comes out of this man.

“A-all right, you win.” He chuckles, fingers hooking the fabric as he pulls it down. Slowly, unveiling the tanned skin beneath, Tyki stills his hand as he watches Lavi who’s watching the slow descent of cloth. He grasps Lavi’s wrist with his free hand, yanking his undergarment off with one quick pull. His cock springs free, as a gasp appraises his size.

Lavi’s hand hovered over it before he guides the hand around his cock, the soft sound of awe escaping Lavi’s lips is not ignored. “Thank you for your praise~” He chuckles causing the blush to run up to Lavi’s ears.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“But your face says it pretty much.”

Lavi shakes his head, exasperated but he doesn’t deny the Noah’s words.

Much like what Tyki had done, he brings his hands up and down the thick length, twitching under his grasp. His palm grazes along the veins that littered the erect cock, his amazement easily displayed in his face.

There’s a bead of precum on Tyki’s cock which he splays around the head, relishing the choked moan the comes out of the taller male. He shifts his eye from Tyki’s reddened cheeks to his thick cock, he had quite a girth; the prodigy’s hand almost didn’t grasp him entirely.

Tyki resumes his ministrations, his hand grasping the shaft in a much tighter hold as he presses Lavi against the wall. He releases the dainty wrist as he trails his hand along the pale back, his head bent to press kisses along Lavi’s jaw. He nibbles along the skin, biting harder in some places as Lavi arches against his touch.

“Mngh!”

“I’m guessing you’re enjoying this.” He whispers against the prodigy’s ear, biting his earlobe as he withdraws. Lavi’s cheeks are aflame, but his eye was focused elsewhere. The hand upon Tyki’s cock was still hesitant, as the man in front of him was curious.

“You look like you want something.” The Noah asks, his voice garnering the wayward gaze back to him. Emerald clashes with gold, there’s an emotion behind the redhead’s eyes.

“Yes, I want to taste it.”

“You want to what-?!”

“You heard me the first time.” Lavi pushes him back, his warm palm searing against Tyki’s flesh. “But I’m not sure how to go about it.”

This time it’s Tyki’s turn to blush.

Did he honestly want him to tell him how to suck his cock? He brings a hand up to his face, hiding behind it. His cheeks are warm to the touch; he could feel the Bookman’s gaze on him. Swallowing thickly, he lets out an exasperated sigh.

“All right.” He brings a hand up to Lavi’s shoulder, pushing him down so the Bookman is on his knees. Lavi grabs unto his thighs for leverage, his erect cock mere inches from the prodigy’s lips. The noble covers his face with a hand, a little embarrassed at the sight of Lavi beneath him.

“Well?”

“All right, so hasty.” The noble cards his fingers through his hair as his other hand grasps the base of his cock. It twitches in his anticipation as he guides it near his lips. Tyki swallows thickly as Lavi grasps it, his green eye looking back at him. “Then?”

He swallows the rising trepidation, he’s doing it too often than comfortable, “Let yourself loose.”

He releases his hold on his cock, bringing his hand down to caress the Bookman’s cheek. He should have been more specific but he wanted to see just how curious the idiot was. He licks his lips as Lavi drags his solitary gaze down his shaft, it twitches once more in his hold.

He watches the way Lavi’s tongue darts out, taking the small bead of precum off his cock. He drags his tongue along the head, the tip dancing along the edges causing a moan to spill out of him. Lavi drags himself lower, tasting more of him; the flat of his tongue lapping along his girth. He runs his fingers up to his red locks, scratching his blunt nails on his scalp.

Lavi brings his mouth up, pausing momentarily at the head of his cock. Tyki pats his head, “Take it slowly.” He laps around the slit of his cock, his tongue taking in the remaining precum before he settles it upon his lips. Lavi takes a deep breath, slowly, sensually, easing his cock into his hot mouth.

“Fuck.” Tyki curses as Lavi takes more of him in, deeper and deeper until he hits the back of the redhead’s throat. Lavi hums and he knows, the devil knows it feels good. Tyki throws his head back, his hands grasping at the red locks as he Lavi slides his length out of his mouth.

The Noah hisses as Lavi pumps the length that he couldn’t fit into his mouth before promptly bringing him back in. He was learning fast and Tyki was at the mercy of his delicious mouth. Lavi sets a steady pace, his mouth accommodating his girth faster than expected. Soft hands pump his length as the tongue teases at the slit.

His hips stutter against the sensations and closes his eyes, grasping Lavi’s hair tighter, enough to hurt but the prodigy doesn’t cease. Soft moans escape the Noah’s lips, he never thought it would feel this good. If this was by his mouth alone, how would the main course feel? The thought causes his cock to twitch inside Lavi’s mouth, causing Lavi to moan around him.

He feels the pressure build up inside of him, if this continues he might not-

“Lavi.” He whispers, his brows creased together as he watches the way his mouth descends on his length, swallowing it easily before sliding it out. The obscene view strengthens the blush on Tyki’s cheeks, the arousal spiking inside of him.

“Lavi.” His voice is much louder, hoarser but it falls on deaf ears.

“Fuck. Stop.” He pulls on the red strands, ceasing Lavi as he looks up at him, his cock half-buried in his mouth. The display almost crumbled his resolve but Tyki holds on. He slowly guides his spit-drenched length out of the prodigy’s slack lips.

“You’re going to be the end of me.”

“What gives?” He helps the Bookman up on unsteady legs, pushing him gently against the white tiles of the bathroom. He claims his lips, tasting himself on Lavi’s lips but it hardly deters him. His hand grasps the younger man’s cock, pumping his length as he grinds his own cock against the smooth flesh. He pulls away to hear the deep moan tumble out of his lover’s lips.

“Tease.” Lavi chokes on the word as Tyki gives his dick a firm squeeze.

“While I honestly don’t mind taking you here, I do think the bed would be a better place for our first time.” He arches a brow up and Lavi coughs against his fist.

“Like I would know where the best place would be.”

“Ho? So you’d rather I have you here then?” He trails his hand down, cupping Lavi’s ass, giving it a squeeze. The yelp that escapes Bookman’s lips is comical and Lavi slaps a hand on his chest. He lets a bout of laughter before pressing a kiss to the redhead’s temple.

“All right, all right, the bed it is.” He releases the cock in his grasp, earning a whine from the younger man. Lavi is none too happy to do the same but Tyki grasps his hand in his own, his fingers entwined with pale ones. He pulls the Bookman against his frame, his lips crashing against surprised ones. He guides them both towards the room,

He pushes Lavi to the bed, the sheets crinkling beneath him. There’s a hunger in his eyes that make them shine like molten gold under the light of the candles. He hears the audible swallow coming from the man in front of him, prompting him to laugh. “Relax. If you don’t want to do this, “He pauses, _he really wanted it_ , “we can stop.”

But Lavi shakes his head, his hands fisting the sheets as he watches the way Tyki’s cock bobs with attention. “No, I want it. Stop coming short and finish what you started.” He brings his gaze up, a fierce emerald green that holds so much conviction. Tyki would be wrong to hold back now.

“If you say so.” Tyki drags his fingers through his hair, a useless effort as his locks are forever in disarray

He towers over him, his taller frame engulfing Lavi’s. His shadow bathes the younger man as Tyki bends down, peppering kisses along Lavi’s jaw. Rough palms run along smooth flesh as the body beneath him arches against his touch.

Tyki brings two of his fingers up to his lips, coating each digit with his saliva. Lavi watches him, the sensual drag of his tongue on each finger before he’s satisfied. “You know there’s some oil for that.” The redhead breathes out.

“But you waited until I finished to say that.”

Lavi brings up a leg to kick him but he catches it by the ankle, pressing a kiss to his feet as he nudges Lavi to get whatever oils there was. The redhead turns his body around, reaching to the edge of the bed, Tyki has an ample view of his behind. The sight causes him to swallow audibly.

A small vial is thrown his way, breaking his gaze as he tries his best to catch the item. It falls unto the sheets, still closed. It’s a glass container with clear liquid inside, he pops the stopper off. The sweet scent of roses fills the air, making Tyki arch a brow. Lavi flushes scarlet, “Don’t ask me. It was Anita who gave them to me.”

“Oh~ So Anita knew I’d be coming?” He coats his fingers with the scented oil, it’s warm on his skin. He pulls Lavi down so his ass rests on his knees, splayed in front of him for his eyes to devour.

“Stop talking about nonsense-ah!” The Noah grasps Lavi’s cock, pumping it lazily as he guides his slick fingers to the tight ring of muscles. “Remember to breathe.” He watches the prodigy nod before he focuses his attention on the small opening.

He runs his fingertip along the sphincter, slowly easing a finger into him. Lavi’s choked cry prompts Tyki to languidly pump his cock. “You’re doing so well.” Slowly he eases it out and then in, setting a slow pace as he watches the tension on the redhead’s body leave. It takes a while but Tyki is patient, much to aroused to back down now.

“Good?”

“Y-yes.” Lavi moans out and he shifts his body under his touch. Tyki withdraws his finger, this two slowly easing two. “Angh!” Lavi throws his head back his body arching at the entry. The Noah squeezes the cock in his hand as he still the other, trying to distract him as best as he could. He sets a steady pace, slower than usual as he wants to make this as enjoyable as possible. He watches the way the creases on Lavi’s brow ease with each entry, the pants growing in volume.

He watches the way pale hands grasp the sheets less as Lavi’s body arches in pleasure. Tyki watches the way his sweat slick skin glistens under the lighting, the drags his hand up and down as moans spill out from Lavi. “That’s it. You’re doing so well.” Words of praise escape him as he works the redhead, easing his fingers in and out of him.

“Tyki.” His name from his lips sounds so divine.

“Yes?” It’s a drawled out response and Tyki makes an effort to run his fingers along that specific spot. A sharp gasp fills the air as the Noah chuckles, he does it a few more times, pressing on Lavi’s prostate as the redhead arches his body in abrupt pleasure. The sheets beneath them are a mess, torn in certain parts as Lavi pulls on it as a lifeline.

“Tyki!”

“Yes? I won’t know until you say it out loud.”

“Anh! S-stop teasing.” Lavi cries out as his body writhes under the Noah’s touch.

“You’re forgetting that’s my specialty.” His golden eyes darken as he drinks in the pleasure-glazed eye of the prodigy. He continues his assault, hastening his pace as moans rise in octave. The lone green eye turns to him, a hunger that could very well mirror his own. “Stop teasing, you bastard. And get to it.”

“Get to what?” He makes a swipe, earning a choked cry as Lavi’s frustrated growl fills the air.

“Fuck me!” He chokes out the words as his body bends like a taut bowstring. Tyki relents this time, easing his fingers out as he grabs hold of Lavi’s hips, lining himself with Lavi’s entrance. He shifts his gaze up, catching the burning green iris, “Ready?”

“Just get to it already.”

“As you wish~” Tyki holds himself back, pushing his cock inch by agonizing inch. It’s a tight fit, each move forward driving him mad. Lavi’s white-knuckled grip on the sheets is hardly ignored, making Tyki try to be as gentle as he could. Even if the Noah within him is egging him to get it down with. He buries himself all the way to the tip, exhaling the breath he didn’t he’d been holding.

Lavi grasps onto his forearms, gasping loudly to accommodate him. He writhes under him, the spectacle was both amusing and arousing. It takes some time before Lavi relaxes onto the sheets, his pants easing. “Move.”

Who was he to deny what his lover wanted? Tyki draws his hips back, dragging his length out with a slow pull before pushing right back in. His pace is sluggish, easing his length into Lavi’s body. He bends down, capturing the prodigy’s lips as he starts a steady pace. Moans leave kiss swollen lips as he continues to thrust his cock deep within.

“Tyki. P-please.” Lavi moans, his eye closing shut as he grasps the man above him, “Faster.”

“So eager.” He quickens his pace, he doubt he could hold out too long. His free hand pumping Lavi’s cock in tune with his thrusts. The sound of skin slapping against skin and the stench of sex fills the air. It’s almost a nostalgic setting for the Noah.

He pulls the redhead’s hips up, hitting the sweet spot with each surge forward leaving Bookman in a mess of moans and white-knuckled grip on the sheets. He wants to savor each breath that leaves him, each twist of the limbs. He wants to commit into memory the blush that spreads on Lavi’s skin to the pleasure that glazes his green eye.

His long fingers splayed on sweat-slicked skin, chocolate to alabaster. He thrusts himself, chasing the sensation of the knot tightening within him as Lavi writhes beneath him. He quickens his pace, rougher, harder; the cries rise in volume as he pins the former exorcist onto the bed.

It creaks with each thrust, bouncing off the walls as he continues his assault, his peak so very near. He doesn’t want to end so soon, not before him. Lavi gasps loudly, his hands flying up to his shoulders, nails digging onto his sweaty skin.

“Tyki. Tyki. TYKI!” His name is a litany off the Bookman’s lips as his thrust rise in tempo, his hold on the man becomes bruising. His hand around the cock relentless, fisting the length with as much vigor as his thrusts.

“Tyki-!” Lavi’s body arches like a bow as his cock twitches within his fingers, spurting white hot liquid that splatters onto his hand. It spills onto the white plane of Lavi’s stomach, copious and thick. He swallows loudly, the obscene display of cum spurring him even more. He lets an animalistic growl tear through his throat as Lavi’s orgasm dies down while his own was still building.

He grasps with both hands, pulling the pliant man against him as he continues to thrust. He’s so close, he’s so close, he’s so-

“Argh! Lavi!” He cries out, the taste of his name is reassuring as he cums deep inside. His cock twitches so much, spilling copious amounts of cum, surely painting the Bookman’s insides white. Lavi groans at the sensation, wrapping his legs loosely around Tyki’s hips as the Noah bottoms out.

He leans over him, his body heaving as he shudders the last waves of his orgasm. His dark hair cascades over his eyes, his skin slick with sweat.

A soft chuckle bubbles beneath him and pale arms wrap around his middle, pulling him down to meet Lavi’s waiting lips. He devours the moans that tumble off as he languidly thrusts his cock, easing only when he’s through spilling his seed.

Lavi groans at the loss, “You came so much.”

“You made it so good, I couldn’t hold back.”

“Do you say that to everyone you bed?”

“Lavi.”

“I’m joking. Anh, so much.” He drags a hand down Tyki’s body, surprised to see the Noah was still very much stiff. “Insatiable.”

“I could say the same for you.” Tyki knows the look of hunger when he sees it but the prodigy’s body was spent, and his breathing was labored.

“Save it, Mikk. Clean me up, that’s the least you can do.” Tyki chuckles but gingerly scoops Lavi into his arms, as if he weighed nothing. He shakily makes their way to the bathroom, eager to make good use of the bath water.

However, Lavi truly was insatiable and they took some time in the bath for more intimate reasons.

He wakes up first, unusual, as he usually slept in.

The cool breeze from the window flits into the room, blanketing them in a cool embrace. He shudders lightly, pulling the warm body flushed against his own, hoping to drift back to sleep. A grumble tickles his chest as the redhead nuzzles him, pale arms wrapped around his own.

“Morning already?” A lone green eyes peeks out from tousled red locks.

“Indeed.”

“I feel so sore.”

“You’ll get used to it.” He chuckles, wishing sorely that he had a cigarette.

Lavi props on his elbows, the morning glow bathing his pale body. Tyki moves to his side, drinking in the sight of his lover’s bare form in the early hours of morning. A single green eye mirrors his gaze, “Like the view, Lord Mikk?”

“Very much so, I could get used to every morning.” The laugh that answers him is full, warm. He wants Lavi to know he’s serious, he’d rather leave his family than marry a faceless woman. Reaching a hand forward, Tyki tucks the wayward red strand behind Lavi’s ear.

His touch is gentle, almost loving. The words are on the tip of his tongue.

_I love you_

He feels the tears prickle upon his eyes as he withdraws his hand back, grinning at Lavi’s face, the tender moment etched into memory. He can never say it; it’s too taboo.

So he settles for the closest thing,

“Good morning.”

The sun shines much like any other morning, the birds chirp their annoying tune but Tyki is up too early. He feels odd, as if something was different today. There’s an odd sensation sitting at the back of his neck. He brings a hand to his nape, there wasn’t any pain under his scrutinizing touch.

He chucks it off to the copious amount of wine he’d drank at the party the night before. His ‘betrothed’s’ family had organized the ball, in celebration of two clans joining. He had snorted into his drink under the pretense but Sheril’s sharp glare had cease any further negative reaction from him.

He remembers shaking hands of numerous nobles, spotting Lavi at a corner. They didn’t talk, the small space between them as they drank a flute of champagne in the balcony was their only exchange. The weight of the velvet box in his pocket seemed heavier the night before.

Nonetheless, Tyki dresses for the day; patting his pockets and happy to find the box was still intact. They’d arranged to meet at a local café that had opened up. He’d ask him then, to hell with whatever Sheril had planned. He wanted some semblance of control in this life.

There’s a spring in his step as he makes his way to the dining room, it was still empty which is quite unusual. Sheril and Tricia would be around to enjoy breakfast during this time. He shrugs his shoulders, taking his seat as the maids started to serve breakfast.

The morning paper sits near him, curiosity piques him. He doesn’t normally read the newspaper; it was more of Sheril’s thing but something about it was gnawing at his senses. Golden eyes flit through the pages just as Rhode and Wisely join him on the table.

The air around him turns frigid as his hands crumple the gray sheets in his hand. His breath quickens as his lips form a tight line. Wisely turns to him sharply garnering Rhode’s attention.

“Tyki.” Rhode’s voice falls upon deaf ears as his golden eyes skimmed through the contents of the paper.

**Lavi Bookman, dead**

**The famed prodigy Lavi Bookman’s mansion had burned down. The Bookman manor is left in ashes during the Midsummer Ball which the younger Bookman was unable to attend. A charred body was left behind in the hallway of the manor. It has been identified as the young prodigy.**

**Unfortunately, much of his works and inventions were not salvaged from the flames. He is survived by his father.**

He had to read the words over and over, until the imagery of how he died finally visualized in his head. A loud animalistic cry spills out of his lips and he flips the table upside down. Wisely jumps away from the trajectory, grasping Rhode by her shoulders as he leads her out of the room.

He sees only red, crumpling the papers in his grasps as he stomps to a particular room. It doesn’t take him much to know the cause.

He doesn’t knock, doesn’t care who else was around; Tyki kicks the door open. Sheril was hardly surprised, drinking his afternoon tea while his eyes are busy with the documents spread on his table.

“You did this, didn’t you?” He slams the sheets onto the desk, eyes wild with anger but his older brother hardly removed his eyes from the paper in front of him.

“Beg your pardon?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Sheril. I know you. I know you did this.” He already knew the answer, already expected this kind of turnabout. Deep down he knew he was dancing too close to the flame, but he devoured what he can, relished what he can even if the flame would take everything from him.

It’s this time that Sheril puts the paper down, the sinister gleam in his eyes should be answer enough, “If I say yes, Tyki, what would you do?”

He purses his lips; it wouldn’t win him anything; Lavi was dead in this life. What more could he do?

“Just answer me,” His voice is tight, his chest is bursting at the seams, he feels the cold sweat run down his nape, “Why did you do it? You don’t gain anything from killing an inventor.”

“You’re mistaken. I merely erased a threat to our family.” Sheril leans against the smooth leather of his seat, “Did you not think well enough why he was creating such things? Why for the Order of this world? They’ve just been established.”

“What do you mean?” He looks incredulous.

“Ah, Tyki. You were always a little slow at times.” He pushes the document under the Noah of Pleasure’s eyes, “Here’s a testimony of the trade. And as you know, it’s best to nip it by the bud.”

“You.”

“Thus to answer your question, yes I did it. There. Satisfied?” Sheril throws his hands up, waiting for something, anything but Tyki feels so numb now. His body is frozen; his mind is blank. Sheril waits, the sparse minutes passing by with each tick of the grandfather clock in the room. He coughs against his gloved fist, settling back into his heat, “Well then, if you have nothing else for me. I will need some privacy for these documents.”

He nods numbly, as if tied to the puppet strings that Sheril knows how to play with. He makes a lethargic pace to the door.

“Oh and Tyki.” He turns around, a blank emotion still on his brother’s face.

“My condolences but from now on, you should truly focus on your wedding. There are no more distractions to deal with, right?” He smiles, a sick sinister smile that breaks the Minister’s face causing a shudder runs down his spine as he steps out of the office. He presses his body against the door, his weak knees willed to support.

Tyki covers his face with a gloved hand, surprised at the wet splotches on the fabric as tears cascaded down his eyes. No wonder his vision was blurry. He hides behind the coarse fabric as he phases through the walls to his room. Nothing comes to mind, the uneasy feeling in his gut as he phases through mixes with the guilt, the humiliation and the regret. It stirs inside of him, a wound that festers with each step he takes forward.

He gasps loudly as he phases into his quarters, the four cornered walls cage around him. He feels the shackle around his ankle as each heavy step forward rolls the metal ball keeping him in place.

The glow of the morning sun bathes him as he crumples to the floor, his body bent as if to hide himself. Hands pressed against his face as the tears freely fall, as the emotion robs him of his voice. His body shakes as he weeps, his lips tracing the familiar name of the one he has learned to love.

Forever gone, in this lifetime.

  
He looked far too broken and Rhode could only watch the once proud man trudge to her spot on the loveseat. He settles beside her, the weight of his emotions heavy on his shoulders. The smaller Noah opens her arms catching Tyki's attention, he lets out a bitter chuckle as he settles into them, shaking. She doesn't need to say anything, guiding his mess of a head upon her lap.  
  
He doesn't say anything, letting her guide him as her smaller fingers sift through his mop of a hair. She lets out a curse when her fingers caught on tangles but Tyki is silent, settling his large frame on the small seat, trying to bend his long legs into a comfortable position.  
  
He closes his eyes, snuggling against the itchy fabric of her lace skirt, "Rhode, if you please."  
  
She lets out a sharp intake but nonetheless hums in answer as she continues her soothing ministrations. Tyki hates it, deep down he loathes it; the moment he closes his eyes.  
  
  
He wakes up, the sun a ball of gold on a summer sky. He desperately wants to bury himself back under the covers, he was far too drowsy for mornings. There's a sharp rap of knocks on the heavy oak door to which he calls, 'Come in.'  
  
"Still in bed in such a lovely morning, really." He jumps out of the blankets piled over his tired body as his golden eyes find the bemused look of a single eyed redhead. His chest tightens as he peels himself from his bed and trudges to the confused male.  
  
Tyki lets a bitter smile play on his lips as the sun catches his lover's red locks, "Good morning."  
  
He knows it's not real.  
  
 _Good night._

**Bonus:**

Tyki woke up, the cold winter morning was uncomfortable no matter which life he breathed into. Is this the seventh world he’s been born in? He doesn’t really think much, knowing the hustle of gathering Christmas presents was looming over his shoulder.

Rhode was very particular with what she wanted and him being the procrastinator in the family, opted to get them now than earlier. He would surely pay for it with the Christmas rush but he doesn’t really care. He slides his feet into his shoes, wrapping a thick scarf around his neck as he rushes outside. Some coffee would do well for his drowsy state, a new café near his apartment has just opened.

He wasn’t much of a coffee person but after his experience with…

He stops his thoughts, shaking his head. There was no need to dwell into those things. Coffee was a good way to start his mornings in this lifetime. He crosses the street, holding his scarf in place as the slow fall of snow signals a cold day.

The chime of the bell signals the staff his entry, the whole café was empty. “Welcome!” A man calls out and Tyki paces to the counter, stopping momentarily.

“Oh, sorry about the eyepatch. I had an accident during childhood.” The man behind the register sheepishly spoke, he rubs the back of his neck as he explains. A very familiar action. “But, anyways, Welcome to Bookman Café. I’m Lavi, your barista for the day. What would you like?”

He couldn’t help the soft chuckle that bubbled off his lips.

It’s such a cruel twist of fate.

**Author's Note:**

> This was an indulgent fic that was concocted because my younger friends were bringing up DGM on my timeline. It took me an entire week to get this done, which is actually quite a feat.
> 
> If you like my writing, feel free to support me via ko-fi! ko-fi.com/crimsonadvent
> 
> Thank you for reading.


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